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Tuesday, 18 February 2014

The Curse of Competition

I’ve done it before – and no doubt I'll do
it again, but I don’t like it, I really don't like it.

The first time I did it I got quietly drunk
during the proceedings and offered very little substance to an event that was
breath-taking in its banality and shallowness. I didn't even get paid; no hang
on, now I think about it, as well as drinking copious amounts of free cheap red
boxed wine I probably did get paid, although I very much doubt that I
could have counted the contents of the envelope handed to me at the end of the
evening. I do remember that the event went on and on for hours on a draft-swept
stage that got less chilly as the level of the boxed vino diminished.

The first time I did it was for a Beauty
Pageant. I did it because I was asked -
and that fulfilled my flagging ego; and I did it because I thought I could get
close to lots of young, scantily clad, luscious female bodies – and that would go some way towards vicariously
fulfilling my male lascivious desires. In both respects the event was a huge and
shallow personal success, but at an intellectual level it was mind numbing
stuff. It degraded into an occasion where I found myself wondering how an earth
I could extricate myself without causing even more offense than my increasingly
unrestrained and incoherent behaviour was causing.

I’ve been a “talent” judge several times
since – these times at drama festivals or competitions where groups of nervous amateur
actors have been cajoled into setting themselves against groups of over enthusiastic
amateur actors oozing ill deserved hubris.

This is a genuine, happy and very talented drama group
who achieved some excellent theatre - Swaziland Performing
Arts Troupe. A privileged to be involved with them.

I have sat with my bemused fellow judges
after being assailed, battered, whipped and bored witless by “performances”
that should have never left the dressing room. Performances that would have benefitted
from atleast a modicum of direction, or were so poorly rehearsed that one
got the impression that the performers were surprised that they were where they
where – if indeed they were there . . . ., and wondered what we
were doing there. Just occasionally I have also sat with my fellow judges,
speechless and with that chilly, frizzy, exciting shiver of a frisson of a feeling down the spine that
follows a performance of such unexpected quality that you almost forget to
applaud and then do so with such vigour that it hurts. My various fellow judges
and I have trudged through our pro-forma tick-sheets and manipulated our
mechanistic scoring to support our subjective views about this piece, or that
piece.

This is the hard bit. You apply science by
marking diction, characterisation, staging, storyline, adherence to time
constraints (if you’re lucky enough and there are any) and so on. Then
you collectively pore over the results and make a joint decision about which
piece you actually liked, or felt comfortable with, or felt challenged by; depending
of course upon your mood. The judge who has had a bitch of a day will settle
more comfortably for a light piece, but the judge who has had a successful and
reflective day may be happier perhaps with a more challenging piece.

Story telling workshop with the extraordinary Gcina Mhlope

Many pieces that I have sat in
uncomfortable judgement of have been developed for an open-air setting; perhaps
at a rural tinkundla centre (local
administration offices) or in a school classroom that has been cleared of
chairs and desks. In either case there are no “wings” or thrust apron stage.
The audience is seated on beaten earth or a cold concrete floor, not on upholstered
tiered seating. There are no opening curtains or dimming house lights to
signify the start of a performance; this is conventionally done by song
(invariably in a doleful minor key). Audiences in the rural setting will drift
towards and away from the periphery of the playing arena without the incessant
creaking and banging of a theatre entrance door (or worse – doors!). Pieces
developed in and for a rural context do not travel well to the relative
sophistication of a conventional theatre.

There is also the issue of subject matter.
So many local drama pieces are focused on themes dictated by whatever aid
agency is currently doling out money for community educational activities. This
is a guaranteed damper on artistic expression if you are constrained to
dramatising the effects of HIV AIDS or violence against women to fulfil the
desires of an external funding agency. This is worthy of further discussion!

I am really not sure what the point
of it all is. There may be a cash prize for the “winner” and the inevitable
blousy certificate declaring in florid lettering the name of the competition
and the placing; first, or second or third; but no one will take any notice of
this certificate because it has no meaning whatsoever in the context in which
groups are performing.

The problem is that through exposure to facile
TV programs like the criminally ineptly named “America’s got Talent”, “The X Factor”
and so on, groups and performers who should be encouraged and nurtured by being
given a free, safe and open platforms to perform on are being inveigled into competitive
performance. This is not only stupid and crass, but is entirely counter
productive.

The extraordinary cast and crew of the "Island".
Unsurprisingly the cast are the two guys in front!

I have had the good fortune to have
directed performances of home grown theatre. The rewards for the participants
and audience (and me) far, far outweighed any dubious accolades that participation
in any competition would have. I have also had the opportunity to be involved with
a schools drama festival that has allowed the opportunity for students to participate
in elements of performance and expression that they would not normally be
exposed to and in which there is no hint of competition.

Two young men receiving on the job training on how not
to over-act by the master of physical theatre - Ellis Pearson

The aim and provenance of so much performance
artistry lies in circumstances that are from a far higher plane than competition. Emotions are to be tapped and
stories are to be told. Personalities can be developed, fears and anxieties should
be released, and imaginations encouraged to fly.

That is what performance should be about and
that is why I feel uncomfortable when I fall into my own ego trap and occasionally
agree to sit in judgement.